


mad love to you

by knightswatch



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Crossdressing, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 03:17:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5769286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightswatch/pseuds/knightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo, currently, has an Issue. Capitalization required. Said Issue is Kenma, stretched out on his bed with one of Kuroo's pillows under his chin, tapping away at the buttons on his PSP, acting as if he's <i>not</i> wearing a skirt for no reason that Kuroo has been able to figure out yet.</p>
<p>Except maybe a constant and ongoing effort to kill him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mad love to you

Kuroo, currently, has an Issue. Capitalization required. Said Issue is Kenma, stretched out on his bed with one of Kuroo's pillows under his chin, tapping away at the buttons on his PSP, acting as if he's _not_ wearing a skirt for no reason that Kuroo has been able to figure out yet.

Except maybe a constant and ongoing effort to kill him.

He's given up trying to ask about them—this is the fourth different one he's seen Kenma wear in the last several weeks, and every question has been met with a shrug and Kenma asking, softly, if Kuroo likes it or if he thinks Kenma looks nice.

Kuroo probably likes them _too_ much. This one's black, with sharp pleats, laying on the back of his thighs and settling over his hips. He's having a hard time doing anything other than staring, despite the book open in his lap that he meant to read, and for once he's glad Kenma is paying far more attention to a game than to him.

Or at least, he seems to be, but Kuroo doesn't miss the quick flash of golden eyes over his shoulder, the slight sideways tilt of his head before he turns his attention forward again. He's looking for something, some kind of reaction maybe, and Kuroo lifts an eyebrow in response. Kenma's legs are stretched out on the bed and he slides one hand off the ignored pages of the book to slide a thumb over the back of his knee instead, feeling the soft skin in the crease of his leg. The muscle under his fingers twitches, ticklish probably, but Kenma doesn't look back at him this time.

It's not so hard to tell that he's noticed it, though, and Kuroo feels a little bolder because of that fact, resting his hand around the back of Kenma's thigh. He watches the profile of Kenma's face rather than his own hand, squeezing lightly. It's barely a press of his fingertips against the muscle of Kenma's thigh, barely high enough to be anything more than innocent, but Kenma's other leg twitches on the bed, a little flick of his toes before he shifts to resting the other side of his knee on the sheets, legs just _slightly_ more open than they were before.

Not too subtle to be called an invitation, at least where the two of them are concerned. Kenma, when he's not interested, would have rebuffed Kuroo from the start, cold and simple. Kenma's never had a problem just telling him no before. Kuroo slides his hand a little higher instead, thumb dragging along the soft skin where it meets the hem of the skirt. 

He shifts, pushing the book off his lap and instead straddling the back of Kenma's legs instead, resting most of his weight in his knees. Rather than pairing something fancy with the skirt, he's got an old t-shirt pulled on. It's cute, though—it suits him. Kenma shifts, just slightly, when Kuroo moves, glancing over his shoulder again, leaning his chin against it. “What are you doing?”

“Rubbing your back,” the grin Kuroo flashes him is anything but innocent, and Kenma's cheeks heat before he turns back to his game, fingers tapping at the buttons just a little bit harder. Kuroo doesn't ask what he's fighting against, he learned that over the last several times of trying to prod Monster Hunter information out of Kenma. Instead, he settles his weight on Kenma's thighs, thumbs dipping under the hem of the shirt to rub tight circles into his lower back.

It's not an entirely aimless sort of massage, though he doesn't work enough pressure to really ease any of the knots in Kenma's back, he can tell it's enough to feel nice from the little twitches of his shoulders and hips, quickly swallowed breaths that could _almost_ have a sound attached to them without Kenma quickly stopping it in his throat.

Kuroo shrugs, both his hands entirely under Kenma's shirt now, stroking slowly along his shoulders, leaving it hitched up above his stomach, before sliding back down, teasing around the waistband of the skirt instead. He pauses with them there, rather than sliding immediately onward, waiting.

Kenma huffs a small, annoyed sound, and rolls his hips backwards toward Kuroo's hands. He grins a little wider, smoothing them down the curve of Kenma's ass, tilting his head to the side before giving it a small pinch as well, snickering under his breath at the tiny glare Kenma tosses back at him. It's hard to resist when he has the perfect chance, Kenma should know him better than that.

Objectively, he knows that there isn't actually space under the skirt for Kenma to be wearing something like boxers. But, when his fingers run over the outline of panties instead, he can't exactly be blamed for the way his heart climbs into his throat, suddenly in a much greater hurry to get Kenma _out_ of the skirt than he was before.

He gives one last little squeeze to Kenma's ass, watching the skirt gather and rustle in his hands, before flipping the back of it up around his waist. He doesn't expect the little lift of Kenma's hips to help him, but he gets it anyway. There's a shivery feeling that starts in his chest and crawls down his spine, staring down at Kenma's backside covered with black lace. He must make a small sound of some kind, because Kenma glances back once more, gaze no longer sharp and piercing but molten, encouraging Kuroo further.

He still has the game in his hands, and the screen isn't paused, so Kuroo shuffles them both until he's laying on the bed between Kenma's legs. He pauses a moment, appreciating the angle, but cuts off Kenma's next impatient question of what he's doing with a small nip to the inside of his thigh, a teasing drag of teeth against the palest bits of his flesh.

He continues, leaving warm kisses broken up by more tiny bites, until he reaches the crease of Kenma's thigh where it meets with the underwear, latching his teeth just below and biting down hard enough to leave a mark, enough that Kenma can't quite swallow his little gasp, sucking a red bruise into the spot and dragging his tongue over it again when he lets go, admiring. He doesn't leave many marks on Kenma, knowing that he'd be mortified if someone saw any of them, but his thighs are usually a safe bet for being covered, and Kuroo inches his mouth down slightly and dedicates himself to leaving another.

Rather than gasping, Kenma lets a little whine slip through his teeth, and Kuroo denies even to himself that the sound alone is enough to make his heart do a little flutter and heat curl tighter around his stomach. He's not concerned about himself at this point, enough that he doesn't even grind his own hips into the bed. With one hand, he lifts Kenma's hips just slightly, fingers rubbing the soft fabric against the damp head of his cock before pulling away again, almost purring at the protesting jerk that tries to follow his fingers. He slides his tongue up the crease of Kenma's thigh, dragging the panties down with a grin hidden against Kenma's leg.

The tapping of buttons pauses for a moment, enough time for Kenma to lift his hips higher and shiver at the exposure of bare skin to air, but he settles and resumes playing. Kuroo wonders, dimly, if he can actually focus like this or if he's clicking his way through menus in an attempt not to seem like he's desperate for it. 

Which, Kuroo is starting to think that he is, or, at least, more than he's letting on.

Kenma's breath hitches before Kuroo's tongue even slides over his entrance, giving a little jolt of surprise like the contact shocks him, but rolling his hips back into it, quietly eager. Kuroo smothers a smirk with the next drag of his tongue, using both hands to hold Kenma's hips steady rather than letting him squirm like he wants to. 

He rolls his tongue gently around Kenma's rim, listening to the sound of his fingers pressing the buttons slow until it stops entirely. He doesn't hear the plastic bounce of the console against the bed, however, until he slides his hands from holding on to Kenma's hips to spreading his cheeks apart and easing his tongue inside.

A small 'ah' falls out of Kenma's mouth, sticking in the back of the throat, sheets rustling under him as he uses the change in Kuroo's grip to roll his hips backwards desperately, trying to urge Kuroo to press further inside of him. Kuroo glances up, unable to see much other than the flinch of Kenma's shoulders, his head falling forward between them and pressing into the pillow to try and muffle the staccato whines as they tumble out of his mouth.

Usually, it's the kind of thing that would make Kuroo smirk like a cat that's caught the canary, though at the moment his mouth is busy with other things, like drawing his tongue out slowly and sucking at the edge of Kenma's rim instead. The slow, measured way he fucks into him apparently isn't enough, not judging, by the way, Kenma grinds himself into the sheets and whimpers into the pillow, constantly pushing back for more.

He lifts his head, trying to push his hips up enough to wrap his fingers around his cock, finding Kuroo's hand already there to bat him away. “Ah—Kuroo please, I can't…”

Taking pity, Kuroo draws his tongue out again, flicking it once over Kenma's relaxed hole before sucking two fingers into his mouth, rolling his tongue between them before pressing the slick pad of his index finger inside. Kenma presses further into the pillow, with a moan that's just on the edge of being too loud for it to really hide, and he doesn't tense at all at the intrusion. Instead, it feels like his body sucks Kuroo's finger in further, hot and needy around him already.

Kuroo rests his cheek against Kenma's thigh with a grin, resisting the urge to suck another bruise into it, focusing on steadily screwing him with one finger, still not giving him enough even with the little twists of his wrist. 

Kenma lifts his head out of the pillow, probably to scold him again, cutting himself off with a ragged gasp when Kuroo slides a second finger inside, watching his lips part around the sound of it, back arching as he uses his elbows to hold himself up. Kuroo bites gently into the skin under his cheek, twisting his wrist and curling his fingers up against Kenma's prostate, watching him jerk and suck in a breath to keep from yelping, kissing the spot marked by his teeth.

“Think you can come for me just like this, Kitten?” He grins when Kenma shakes his head slowly, the ends of his hair shaking by his jawline, dropping his face to whimper into the pillow when rather than drawing his fingers back, Kuroo rubs the pads of them along the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of him, massaging it relentlessly. “Are you sure?”

Kenma lifts his head up enough to shake it again, fingers kneading into the pillow desperately, apparently resigned to Kuroo not allowing him to stroke himself off. He's a little surprised by the gesture—Kenma isn't usually so patient or willing to play along with him. He slides his fingers out to the tips before pushing them inside again, trying to restrain his urge to grin victoriously or grind himself into the sheets until he gets himself off just on the sounds Kenma's making, little hiccups like they're being pushed right out of his lungs, breaking when he clenches his jaw and tries to stop them. 

Still, he withdraws his fingers slowly, pressing a fleeting kiss to the left side of Kenma's ass before sitting up and shoving his sweats down with a gasp that's more obvious than he was hoping for. He's glad he'd already changed into those rather than risking ruining the inside of his slacks again, leaving the inside of his boxers slick with precum. Kenma rolls to his side, hair falling over half of his face and almost covering the flush of his cheeks, one of his hands curled next to his chin and the other still holding onto the pillow. Kuroo blinks, his heart stuttering out of rhythm at the sight, taking an extra moment to tap at Kenma's leg and roll him onto his back instead.

It takes a strong force of will simply not to kneel there and stare at Kenma, shuffling himself forward and sliding the panties the rest of the way off, peppering Kenma's knees with kisses as he does, stroking the delicate lines of his legs and lifting them both to rest Kenma's ankles over his shoulder, grinning at the still dazed expression on his face. “You okay?”

Kenma blinks softly at that, the corners of his mouth tilting up with a little hum, releasing the pillow and reaching out until his fingers catch at Kuroo's side instead, tugging him closer. There's not much force behind it, but it's more than enough to make Kuroo settle closer, grinning at the skirt still flipped up around his waist and the ruffle of his hair on the pillow. Kenma always makes such a pretty mess.

Already slick, the head of his cock slides easily between the soft skin of Kenma's thighs, pressing the two of them together in a way that makes Kenma arch and grip tighter at his side, nails digging in now, and Kuroo tilts his head against Kenma's shins. _”Fuck.”_

His hips swing back slowly, dragging his cock along Kenma's, surrounded by the warmth of his thighs when the muscles of his legs contract and strain, using the leverage of his legs over Kuroo's shoulder to try and roll his hips up into the friction. He pushes his knuckles against his mouth, biting down to muffle sounds into them, lashes fluttering.

Kuroo's tempted to tug his hand away so he can hear Kenma whine but leaves him when Kenma's hips give an extra twitch upward, already out of rhythm. He lets Kenma squirm the way he wants to, this time, the flexing motions of his legs tightening his thighs each time Kuroo thrusts forward between them, leaving them slick from the fluid already leaking out of the slit of Kuroo's cock. There's a matching damp patch on Kenma's stomach, and quickly it seems too much for him to try and muffle his sounds into his hand because he drops it to the side to twist it into the sheets instead, mouth draping open.

“T- Tetsu,” Kenma's voice cracks on the syllables of his name that escape and just behind Kuroo's head his toes curl tightly when he comes, leaving sticky ropes on his stomach and the bottom of the skirt. Kuroo's head falls forward, his grip flexing tighter around Kenma's legs. The continued stimulation makes Kenma whine, tilting his head back, pointing his chin toward the ceiling. “Tetsu—Tetsurou—”

The stuttered repetition of his name shoves Kuroo over the edge, orgasm pulling the hard knot in his stomach tight and strained before releasing it all at once, so sharp that it shakes all the way through his limbs and nearly knocks him off the bed entirely. His hips roll slowly, unevenly through it, and he manages to set Kenma's legs down before pitching and falling to the side, making the springs squeak in protest.

Kenma blinks at him twice, that same tiny curl of a smile on his face, kissing the tip of Kuroo's nose. He's about to protest the lack of affection when Kenma picks himself up, awkwardly arranging the skirt around the mess on his stomach and wrinkling his nose, glancing back at Kuroo. “I'm getting a washcloth. And your toothbrush.”

Kuroo laughs at that, watching Kenma pad silently out of the room before throwing an arm over his face and grinning into the empty air of the room, only flinching out of surprise when Kenma drops a damp cloth onto his stomach.

Kenma lays down next to him again when he's satisfied Kuroo isn't a gross mess, curling into his arms with a little hum. The skirt is gone, but the panties are back, and really, he can't complain about that at all.

**Author's Note:**

> congrats on the gay filth


End file.
